Real
by SophiaCrutchfeild
Summary: What if you were an outcast in a society of people who never bothered to understand you? What if you began to hate yourself so much, you created the perfect alter-ego, a friendly, nice guy... and he took over? What if you were trapped inside your own mind for months at a time, and when you reached the surface, no one wanted you anymore? What if, after years of dark...you saw light?


Author's Note: Okay, here goes… this isn't a happy fic, btw. So you know. Then again… since when do I write 'happy?'

You're ten years old.

You clench your fists, as the doors slam shut. They sent you to detention again. You need to 'think before you speak.' All you did was defend yourself after those jackasses called you a psycho. You really aren't a psycho. It's not your fault that you have a disorder. So, since they stereotyped you, you did the same, calling them a dumb jock, a rick dick, and an idiotic follower. The teacher thought that you should go to detention, and that they should get off scot-free.

It isn't fair. Why don't things ever go your way? You're not like everyone else, and you don't _want_ to be. You _care_ about the others, and wouldn't trade them. They're your family. They grew up with you. Get rid of them? You'd rather die.

When they finally let you out, you begin thinking. Vito, he's like your best friend. He's always ready for some fun, when you share the body with him. Chester, on the other hand, thinks you and Vito make far too much trouble… but he'll always help you out of it. Svetlana is like a sister to you. She knows how to do all sorts of athletic things. She's seriously cool. Manitoba is more of an older brother, always making sure that everyone treats you right, or he'll use the body to track them down and beat them up.

None of them would stand a chance at being any more accepted than you.

So… maybe you could create a new alter?

He'll be nice. Nicer than you. He will know better than to talk about the rest of you. He will be able to fit in. He'll be smart enough to make okay grades, but not as smart as you… not so smart that he'll scare people away… not like you…

Names, a name, what sort of name would a nice, normal guy have? Something close to yours, but less… well creepy. What were your parents thinking, giving you a name like that? Okay, so what are some common names? Tom, Jack, Mike, Rob… Mike. Yeah, okay. That sounds good.

You feel something pushing at the edges of your consciousness. You smile.

It's six months later, and Mike has come out to play. Everyone seems to like him. He's not an outcast, like you. He's actually made some friends.

The only thing is that he doesn't always want to share with the others. He'll still share with you, since you're the original, but he won't always share with the other alters, and when you ask him about it, he says that they embarrass him. You wonder if _you_ embarrass him. You let him use the body for extended periods of time, going on for day's… weeks…

One day, he takes off a shirt, and Vito sees a chance. He grabs the body, and you can see why. No alter has ever taken the body without permission before, but Mike hasn't let Vito out in two weeks. He hasn't let any of the alters out… you start to wonder when he began controlling that…

You're twelve years old, and you see sunlight for the first time in months.

The body isn't yours anymore. You shared it before, but it was always yours, first and foremost. Now, it's Mike's, and he doesn't share. You feel the hair fall over your eye, and you laugh with relief. Weird, your voice sounds a lot deeper. How long were you…? You look at the calendar, and you see that it's been six months. Six.

You step out of your bedroom, and go to see your mother. She looks at you, and she seems upset.

"I thought that this was fixed," she sighs. "Which are you?" She looks positively cold.

"Mom? What… what happened?"

"Which one _are_ you?"

"I…"

You can't believe it. She didn't want you. She's disappointed to see you. She loves Mike, not you. Not anymore.

Tears flood your eyes, and you leave the room, not telling her. She doesn't need to know that you're the original one. The body has become Mike's body. You never really thought of it as your body, although it was, because you shared it. Mike thinks it's his. He won't share.

You gasp in pain, as you are forced down… down…

You are thirteen, and you and the others have been making a break for it at every possible moment. None of you get much time, but it's better than no time. You yourself haven't seen light in months, but you've been gathering energy… looking through his eyes… seeing how much everyone loves him…

You finally push him aside, and you scream at the top of your lungs, as the light reaches you. You pack a bag, and run. YOU are the real one. Here, with the therapists, and parents, and medicine, you will never escape. If you run away, though, then you might stand a chance of survival… if you stay here, then your last bits of consciousness, of you, will slowly deteriorate and dissapear.

You are fourteen, and you've learned how to survive. You've cracked, some might say, from years of torment. You jolt awake, and see a fat man standing over you, holding a knife.

"Give me your food," the man tells you. You scramble backwards.

"No…"

"GIVE IT TO ME!"

You give Svetlana the body, and she quickly relives the man of his knife. Suddenly, there's a blade in your hand… you take a deep breath, and stab the man in the hand. A finger hits the ground, and you run… and you feel a bloody hand grabbing you…

Two months later, the judge sentences you to a year at a juvenile detention, for manslaughter. He 'lets you off easy' because it was self-defense. You laugh. None of those idiots have been through what you have. You enter with your head held high, and isn't it strange how incredibly strong you've become? The previous 'king' seems to think so, after you break his arm in a split second with your bare hands. You need to survive. This is just a way to do it.

A month later, you're running the place. Nobody messes with you, particularly after they hear what you're in for. You are sent to the psychiatric ward so often that you're on a first-name basis with several of the nurses. You have adopted a theme song… an old tune called, 'In the Hall of the Mountain King.' It seems fitting. You ARE the king, of the detention, and of the body. You were too nice before, and almost lost the body. YOUR body.

A newbie punk sees you walking down a hall, and takes a step back. You smirk, and get up close to him.

"What's your name, kid?"

"D-Duncan," the kid stutters out.

"Who gave you permission to look at me, Duncan?"

"I… I…"

"Do I have to break your arm, like I did to the last kid who looked at me, Duncan?"

He shakes his head. You laugh, darkly. You're starting to like your name…

You're fifteen, and you're suddenly in a room with your mother. It's the first time you've seen her in two years.

"Hello, Mother," you sneer.

"Where's Mike? she coldly replies.

"What, I'm not good enough for you?" you laugh, but you're hurt. Why _aren't_ you good enough? Why, when you tried so hard, were you _never good enough?_ You were smart. You were funny. You did your best to be good… but, to bad for you, circumstances wouldn't let you be. You were too smart. What you thought was funny came across as cruel. Kindness went out the window after you lost control of your own body.

"I want you to know that I _will_ get my son back. The doctors are going to start you on medicine, and you are on your last month."

You have to admit that you're afraid.

You are seventeen, and you've been gathering energy for two years. Mike has done well for himself, hasn't he? He actually _believes_ that he was the first. He has a girlfriend… a beautiful, strong, intelligent girl that he doesn't deserve… and he's famous, too. What do you have? Absolutely nothing. So why not make one last play for the body? It was, after all, yours. So what if Mr. Bug-eyed Idiot Who Everyone Loves has to get beaten?

So what if you have to take down the people you used to think of as your family?

One by one, they will all fall… because Mal, the Mountain King, is coming back, and he's here to stay.


End file.
